The King went to meet him, and said to him, 'How now, father Abbot? Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry; You thinke I m the Abbot of Canterbury; But I m his poor shepheard, as plain you may see, That am come to beg pardon for him and for me. Hertfort: for the Ballad Society bu Stephen Autstin and sons. Yes, yes,—quoth he,—Abbot, thy fault it is high, And now for the same thou needest must die; For except thou canst answer me questions three, Thy head shall be smitten from thy body. We focus on American, European, Russian, African and Asian Arts of all periods and epochs. Secondly, tell me, without any doubt, How soone I may ride the whole world about; And at the third question thou must not shrink, But tell me here truly what I do think.
I hope that you will not think ill of me for making things pleasant for my friends and the brave knights who are with me. For thirty pence our Saviour was sold Among the false Jews, as I have bin told, And twenty-nine is the worth of thee, For I thinke thou art one penny worser than he. I think I can help you out of your trouble. Variant B is from a copy, printed for P. Library of Congress, Music Division. But if you will give me two weeks to think about them, I will do the best that I can.
At the least I can die in your place. But, prompt as you are, if you fail to answer my three questions, you shall lose your head. Here the King is guilty of envy, asks three difficult questions, and a distant relative of inferior standing comes to the rescue. The King he laughed, and swore by St. One by one he answered that the value of the king was twenty nine pence less than the savior , for the second he responded that it takes a whole day if he rose and ran in the speed of sun that rotates round the earth and for the last , he responded that the king might be thinking that he was the abbot of Canterbury but he was wrong because he was a simple shepherd to abbot. An hundred men, the king did heare say, The abbot kept in his house every day; And fifty golde chaynes, without any doubt, In velvet coates waited the abbot about.
For now he had not a week to live. However, of my clemency I will spare thee thy life and thy property if you can answer me but three questions. In the folktale, a priest who is in the habit of shouting everyone else to swerve when he is travelling the road gets in trouble by behaving the same way before the king, who threatens to defrock him if he is not competent to answer them. Chorus repeated after each verse : Derry down, down, hey derry down I'll tell you a story, a story so merry, Concerning the Abbot of Canterbury, Of his housekeeping and high renown Which caused him to go up to fair London town. And first, when thou seest me here in this stead, With my crowne of golde so fair on my head, Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe, Tell me to one penny what I am worthe.
King John and the Abbot of Canterbury. Orientinstitut der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft. The disguised shepherd then meets King John. O these are hard questions for my shallow witt, Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet: But if you will give me but three weeks space, Ile do my endeavor to answer your grace. The title is also mentioned in a play of 1560. I also offer collection development services and buy and sell large libraries in many fields. However, of my clemency I will spare thy life and thy property if you can answer me but three questions.
I hear it of thee, thou keepest far greater state than I. Oesterley, where see his notes. Well, the Abbot rode off in fear and trembling, and first he went to Oxford to see if any learned doctor could tell him the answer to those questions three; but none could help him, and he took his way to Canterbury, sad and sorrowful, to take leave of his monks. If I do not answer him questions three My head will be taken from my body. In a cowl, who will know me for what I am? In it, he compiled some 474 variants across to the Asian continent and spanning from German, Scandinavian to Turkic and languages; of these, 410 were oral, all dating to the 19th and 20th century.
University of California at Santa Barbara, Department of English. But, to tell you the truth, I am only his poor shepherd, and I have come to beg your pardon for him and for me. My entire database of 99,000+ titles is on-line and available for research at my website www. The first is, to tell him, there in that stead, With his crown of gold so fair on his head, Among all his liegemen so noble of birth, To within one penny of what he is worth. And Ile tell you a story, a story so merrye, Concerning the Abbot of Canterbùrye; How for his house-keeping, and high renowne, They rode poste for him to fair London towne. Yes, yes, father abbot, thy fault it is highe, And now for the same thou needest must dye; For except thou canst answer me questions three, Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodie. Analogues are widespread, some of them being literary works dating to medieval times.
And I tell you that no man shall. Now secondly tell me, without any doubt, How soone I may ride this whole world about. So he summoned the Abbot of Canterbury to his presence. He commented in his sleeve notes: A song about a clash between church and state, including a shepherd with a misplaced sense of loyalty, three good riddles and a dubious happy ending. Lend me horse, and serving men, and your apparel, And I'll ride to London to answere your quarrel. In B he rides straight to his country home.